


And now we're together without remembering

by Umi (umichii)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, KHR Undercover, M/M, Mafia activities, Plot heavy fic, pseudo-magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:16:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8603272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umichii/pseuds/Umi
Summary: Sometimes, even the best intention can reap the worst disaster. Set in an alternate timeline in the TYL universe after the TYL arc.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for KHR Undercover 2011, with the theme Guardians. The title is taken from a line in BUCK-TICK's song, Dress.
> 
> So much gratitude to EKmisao for her help in brainstorming and beta reading this. Without her, I doubt I'd be able to finish this fic or be the slightest bit satisfied with it. It was one of the most challenging works I've ever spent time on due to the amount of plotting that had to be done.
> 
> Read the end notes for a note about the ending. Warning, it may be spoilery, so I'd skip reading this particular note if you're willing to risk it.

**THAT MOMENT**

  
   
A single drop can never be enough. Not for this thirst; not for this draught. Moreover, he cannot tell when to stop. Take and take: that’s all he can do. Satiate the hunger; quench the thirst—there is little he can do now.  
 

\--

   
Giovanni can hardly remember the face of their Don or the last time the Don mingled with his people, much less left his quarters. His father warned him once, when he was just a greenhorn, to never question the ways of the Cavallone. "Just wait. If so demanded, serve."  
   
For the entire nineteen years he’s been in service of the Cavallone, waiting is all he ever does. It feels like serving a phantom king, the remains of old wives’ superstitious beliefs. He cannot deny, however, the fear creeping up his spine every time faint footsteps echo solemnly in empty halls and corridors. At times, the wind would pick up, noticeable only if one anticipated it. He would then wait for the opening and closing of doors and the rustling of clothing.  
   
There is a living dead man in the Cavallone Manor, a ghost that does not show itself to its subjects anymore.

 

\--

   
Hayato didn't notice any difference within the Vongola HQ or among the guardians until the Tenth called for a meeting and the Vongola Cloud was nowhere in sight. It isn't that unusual, actually. What was unusual was that someone from the Foundation was actually around. Hibari never sends a representative. He just doesn't. So when some Kusakabe clone was standing next to Sasagawa and the Tenth didn't seem nonplussed either, Hayato realised something was wrong.  
   
That was when Hayato called Kusakabe for a meeting over some ramen. The former disciplinarian was tight-lipped about everything, and only when Hayato dragged him for a drink (there might be six bottles of sake involved, not that Hayato keeps count) that lasted until the wee hours of morning did he learned Hibari had gone on a sabbatical, as Hibari’s men call it. He didn't care how ashamed Kusakabe felt afterwards; all he could think about was 'Why?'  
   
For all the threats Hibari may have thrown at them, he'd never carried them out. This is a first.  
   
“Tenth?”  
   
The Tenth continues on reading a report, hand poised artfully over it with a pen ready for signing. He ignores Hayato entirely until the door behind him opens and Takeshi enters the Tenth’s office, a frown on his face.  
   
“Tsuna?”  
   
This time, the Tenth pauses from reading and raises his head. “Yamamoto-kun?”  
   
Yamamoto didn’t say anything at first. He glances at the Tenth, then at him, then back to the Tenth.  
   
“Do you mind telling me why I almost got maimed by the Varia? I asked them why but they told me you’d know.”  
   
The Tenth’s right eyebrow twitches slightly; Hayato prays that Yamamoto has seen that very particular sign and won’t set off any wrong alarm.  
   
“Actually, before that, maybe you should tell me what happened to Hibari. It’s been four months already. I’d like to be aware if I need to rescue someone.”  
   
When the Tenth smiled, just slightly, a quirking of the lips, he leans his elbows on the desk and steeples his fingers together.  
   
“Hibari-san is already back from his investigation. I’ll send you a copy of his report when I am done with it.”  
   
That seems to have appeased Yamamoto, who nods and leaves without saying another word, not even to Hayato. The idiot has completely forgotten about his first question. The Tenth doesn’t even seem to acknowledge the question was raised.  
   
Hayato stares at the spot the Rain guardian previously occupied before turning back to the Tenth.  
   
“I didn’t know Hibari was back.”  
   
“You don’t need to know everything, Gokudera-kun.”  
   
Frowning, Hayato holds back the urge to bite back. He has been toeing that line separating him from the other members of the Vongola. He’s the Tenth’s right-hand man, the most indisputably loyal man in the Famiglia. It’s not right for him to think of such traitorous thoughts. However, he can no longer be that blind follower everyone has perceived him to be, not when the Tenth is being questionable himself.  
   
“Is that guy even reporting in to work?” Hayato asks. The Tenth raises an eyebrow, as if asking him where he even got the idea of it. Sometimes, Hayato wishes the Tenth isn’t so enamoured with their Cloud guardian. He’s worse than Hayato at times.  
   
“Hibari-san’s on leave at the moment. The investigation had drained a lot from him.”  
   
In short, that bastard is slacking off from work, _again_.  
   
“Tenth...”  
   
But the Tenth interrupts him, his eyes narrowing slightly despite the small smile on his lips. “I still have a lot of work to do, Gokudera-kun. Perhaps later?” His tone is sincere, almost apologetic, but Hayato knows it is anything but such. Hayato can tell when his presence is no longer desired.  
   
When Hayato didn’t reply, the Tenth’s smile flattens, his demeanour dropping in annoyance. “Later, Gokudera-kun. I’ll call you once I’m free.”  
   
Only then did Hayato move from his spot, leaving his Boss without even an enthusiastic goodbye. He has stopped doing it for quite a while.  
  


* * *

   
**BEFORE THAT**  
  
   
They are all wired with anxiety. The tension in the air is palpable; none of them can remain still, fidgeting every few seconds or so. Romario tried his damnedest to keep the calm, but with the Boss sequestered deep in his suite, struggling for his life, there’s not much left to be done but pray.  
   
For the first time, there is no light within the walls of the Cavallone estate. Only silence, and a growing fear.

 

\--  
 

  
Tsuna's smile brightens upon Hibari's entrance.  
   
"Hibari-san! You're back!"  
   
His guardian didn't say a word, but Tsuna knows the reply deep in his heart. They have had such exchanges since he could remember, and Tsuna has come to familiarise his guardian’s silence to the point of perfect prediction.  
   
Seconds passed and Hibari is still scowling, looking at anything but him. The scowl would usually dissolve into just a thin line after Tsuna's greeting.  
   
For a moment then, Tsuna’s smile falters. He has always feared his Cloud would one day return to him a changed man. "What happened?"  
   
Minutes later and Hibari isn't scowling anymore nor looking at anything but him. He is glaring now, his lips pursed, and radiating so much anger that Tsuna's flame furl inward. This has never happened before, not even when Mukuro has gone beyond just playful teasing. This could only mean one thing, and knowing where Hibari came from, neither of them is going to like it. Somewhere deep inside of him, Tsuna could feel apprehension creeping upwards.  
   
The mission had been simple, albeit dangerous. But that is normal when it concerns Hibari. Yet what should be a one-month investigation mission turned into four months with few communications in between. Hibari would only notify him when he’s about to leave one location for another, which frankly is him following basic protocol and not him acting out of some sort of thoughtfulness for Tsuna. It might have served Tsuna’s purpose well, but still, he’d prefer it if his guardian wouldn’t be so aloof towards him after all these years. He’d expected to be treated specially. He is, after all, one of the very, very few people Hibari could stand.  
   
It could have been hours and Tsuna would still not be able to tell the difference. Time has frozen inside his office, and he has once again begun orbiting around Hibari. Has he heard about Dino already? Rumours fly fast in their part of the world. Hibari must have heard something about what happened to Dino already and probably dropped by here on his way to the Cavallone Manor to submit his report.  
   
He almost cursed Dino for being responsible for his guardian’s change in demeanor, only to berate himself after realising he'd almost crossed a forbidden territory of his mind. Without Reborn around, it has become harder for him to control his emotions.  
   
"Dino. That is what happened."  
   
Tsuna ignores the sudden blazing of his flame. Hibari doesn't seem to notice it either, and this realisation only sours Tsuna's dampening mood.  
   
"Hi—"  
   
"The Luchesse knows we have been investigating about the bullet. _Someone_ has been telling them our every step, something which you didn’t seem to have the mind to let either of us know.”  
   
Snarling, Hibari slaps a thick folder on his desk, disturbing the neat arrangements of pens and papers. “Everything about the bullet is in there. Make good use of it while you can, Sawada Tsunayoshi. I'm leaving. You will direct everything to Tetsu and he will handle them as I would."  
   
Tsuna's jaw drops. He splutters for a moment, his mind reeling from shock until he manages to yell, rather loudly, a resounding "No!"  
   
The reaction is immediate. Hibari bristles and snarls, hackles rising as his own flames emerge, blazing with so much emotion that it ails Tsuna.  
   
"I am not your follower, Sawada Tsunayoshi," Hibari says. "You have no control over me, and you never will. Don't ever think I’ll forget what you’ve done, Sawada. Thank your god Dino cannot be bothered to deal with you personally."  
   
Hibari turns around and leaves the office with a loud, angry slam of the door before Tsuna could even stand.  
   
Shakily, Tsuna collapses back onto his chair, fingers curling and uncurling, his eyes straying to the folder that holds the answer to the change he has been so afraid to witness. Hibari had never walked out on him before. He never had.  
   
_Until now_ , Tsuna realises with dread... and something deeper than it, something darker and worse than resentment. And it’s all because of Dino.

 

\-- 

  
Squalo can smell blood from afar. It's not that he's been aptly named for such a trait; he doubts his mother knows that far into the future. It's just that he has a highly sensitive nose, and the coppery scent of blood is not something he can easily ignore over any other smell.  
   
When Dino demanded to meet him in some shady pub in some shadier area in Milan, Squalo left with a small squadron stationed around the area. Just in case he’ll need them.  
   
Upon seeing Dino, something in Squalo twists, and it must have shown because Dino smiles wryly.  
   
"So you've noticed," said the Cavallone. Squalo can never miss the moment of Cavallone using sarcasm. Dry wit is not something easily associated to the Cavallone Decimo.  
   
With scrutinizing eyes, Squalo regards his childhood friend and calmly says, "You look like shit."  
   
At least that pacified Dino when the blond chuckles.  
   
"Any reason why you ask to see me personally? Xanxus doesn't like it when I leave for something non-Varia related."  
   
"You mean that brute doesn't like you leaving without him knowing."  
   
"That, too."  
   
Dino motions for the barkeep to get their drinks. A shot of whiskey later, Squalo steals a glance at Dino.  
   
The Cavallone’s golden hair is not so golden and vibrant anymore. It's messier and longer, as if it hasn't been groomed for days. His brown eyes don't have its famous warmth either. There are only deep shadows framing his eyes and what seems to be a hint of darkness that Squalo never thought would be present in someone like Dino. Dino isn't the bouncing ball of sunshine he's known for.  
   
"I might need your help," Dino says softly.  
   
"I don't do charity work, Cavallone."  
   
"Then consider this personal. Do me a favour, please."  
   
Squalo ponders on it; personal favors aren’t his sort of thing, but they are always quite helpful when a situation calls for it. But no respectable Varia gets into such a situation. Xanxus isn't going to be amused if he sees Squalo actually thinking about this.  
   
"I'm not doing anything I don't want to do."  
   
"Of course," came Dino's automatic response. Slapping a bill on the bar, Dino jerks his head towards the stairs. Squalo follows without a word.  
   
Dino had rented a room for them, and only when Dino had shut the door, his men outside standing guard, did Squalo begin to wonder what sort of sordid thing had Cavallone done.  
   
"You didn't fool around with some diseased wench and expect me to chop your bits off, did you?"  
   
Dino doesn’t laugh like Squalo expects him to. Well, that's not a good sign.  
   
Back turned, Dino sets on removing his coat, then his tie, and then finally his shirt. Squalo ignores the silhouette of a bird inked to Dino's pale back and focuses instead on the healing burnt wound under it.  
   
"Just so you know, Xanxus will not mind you offering the Varia a chance to kill someone. He'd love it, actually."  
   
"That someone is already dead," Dino answers with his back still turned. "What I'm more worried about is the retaliation."  
   
"Let me guess," Squalo drawls. "Your ex-student did the honours."  
   
"We can put it like that."  
   
That's not helpful, but Squalo refrains from saying so.  
   
“Do you know the Luchesse?”  
   
“Not personally. But I’ve heard of them.”  
   
“Then you should know majority of their investment is on weapons. Special weapons, one of which is the Living Death Bullet.”  
   
“And? Do you want me to snuff them off?”  
   
Dino lets out a grumbling sound, as if something is hindering what he guesses is a laugh.  
   
“Like I said, Kyouya already did the honours. We’ve been working together lately, just researching and investigating. Harmless stuff, you know.”  
   
“Yes, Cavallone, as if I know anything else other than slicing off limbs.”  
   
“Well, you see, something went wrong, one night, in the middle of the investigation.” Dino drapes his shirt on the edge of the bed, shoulders stretching. “We were ambushed by the Luchesse. Turns out that someone had been ratting us out to them. Someone who is part of our circle.”  
   
"Which also makes this a Vongola matter, alright." Squalo frowns, his mind already whirling into action. "I don't understand. What’s the poi—"  
   
Dino chose that moment to turn around. Squalo gasps at the sight, eyes widening, some undefinable emotion chilling him down to his bones.  
   
Almost instantaneously, the thing on Dino's chest reacted wildly. Squalo swears it looks like it's trying to jump out and maybe devour him whole. Whatever that thing is, it is not one friendly thing.  
   
For once in his life, Squalo is speechless in horror. If there is a fleshy counterpart to barnacles, then Dino must be the first one to carry them. Not even the most diseased wench can pass _that_ onto anyone, and he doubts Fate would be so cruel to give Dino an army of wriggling tumor.  
   
The smile on Dino’s face is sardonic, and when he spreads his arms, as if showcasing the clumps of hardened flesh on his body, Squalo unconsciously steps back.  
   
“This, Squalo, is what happens when one is shot with the Living Death Bullet.”  
   
Squalo swallows the sourness going up his throat. Dino’s smile widens, his eyes glinting, and Squalo wonders if insanity is a side-effect of the bullet as well.  
   
“Do you want to know how I got it?” The fact that Dino let out a soft chuckle only made Squalo's battle-hardened guts coil. “Not that it matters anymore. I’ve already collected my debt through Kyouya.”  
   
Squalo doesn't know what to say. Everything is happening too fast and he does not know where to start.  
   
“Kyouya, however, will want to take action, Squalo.” It is the graveness of Dino's voice that diverted Squalo's attention from Dino's chest to his face. And now, Squalo can see why Dino had gone the extra mile to speak with him. “If I cannot forgive Tsuna for his mistake, then I’m sure it’ll be worse for Kyouya. I need you to keep him as far away as possible from Vongola.”  
   
Squalo manages to get past a choke and says rather hoarsely: "That fucking student of yours doesn't follow rules even if you shove it down his throat."  
   
"Which is why I need you to keep him in check. I don’t think I can anymore, not with this disease."  
   
"I can't promise you that, Cavallone. You know I can't. Personal or not, I can't. This isn't something you can just talk to me about like we’re bosom buddies. This is something you bring to his Boss. To Sawada."  
   
Dino sighs. “Tsuna is already deaf to me since Kyouya left Vongola.”  
   
Now _that_ Squalo doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know that’s possible. “That's some damned bullshit you've cooked up, Bronco. I commend you for the effort."  
   
"I’m serious. If need to, I'll hire Varia to keep Kyouya safe."  
   
"You know we don't do anything without at least ninety-five percent chance of success, and we definitely do not fight to ensure a target stays alive. We're assassins, Dino. We kill people, maim at the very least, and you damn well know Xanxus isn't going to allow this. The last time we staged a coup against the Vongola someone got turned into a fucking ice cube."  
   
“I’m not asking you to rebel. I’m asking you to just keep Kyouya away from Vongola. On second thought, keep Vongola away from Kyouya. I know what Kyouya is like.” Dino frowns.  
   
Squalo wishes he'll do something to cover that fucking chest up. It's distracting, and it's doing a fucking wonder to his own stomach.  
   
"This is the Mafia, Cavallone. No soul stays safe in our world. Whatever he'd done, he deserves it."  
   
"Then do you think I deserve this?" Dino gestures at his body. Squalo glances away before his eyes could burn the details into his head. “What have I done wrong to piss off your Decimo that he’d sent me to my deathbed? What have I done to the Luchesse!”  
   
“Hold it!” Squalo yells, his own voice rising in challenge to Dino’s. “What the fuck are you bleating about? Luchesse did that, all right, fine, sucks to be you. But what the fuck does Sawada got to do with it?”  
   
The expression on Dino’s face darkens immediately then disappears in a matter of split-second, turning blank.  
   
“Just promise me you'll at least keep Vongola out of this,” Dino whispers.  
   
Squalo almost snorts derisively and shakes his head. "I can't, Dino. I can't and I won't." Because Squalo wouldn't dare break a promise, most especially not to the only person he'd almost come to call friend, and if he doesn’t make one, then he wouldn’t be breaking any. "That kid is a fucking bomb. And besides, Sawada wouldn't let the Varia near his precious Guardian. He's already paranoid we'd tempt him to join us."  
   
Upon Dino's scowl, Squalo knows he's mentioned the wrong name.  
   
"There’s nothing Tsuna can do anymore with regards to Kyouya,” Dino says. “He did, after all, leave Vongola for good. However, Tsuna will try to worm his way back to Kyouya’s good graces. _This_ I do not want to happen, Squalo. I want Kyouya safe, Squalo, and Tsuna is not safe. But as long as this matter is not settled— _I_ am not dead, Tsuna will stop at nothing to get Kyouya back."  
   
Dino didn't wait for an answer anymore this time. He puts his clothes back on, and without another word, he left.  
   
In retrospect, Squalo was pissed Dino had dared to act like the stuck-up prick he'd once denied of ever becoming. He still is, actually, and he'd most likely hold this against the Cavallone for the rest of his life. But as he recalls the horrible thing on Dino's chest, he can't really blame the man.  
   
Letting out one last sigh, Squalo leaves the rented room as well. He'd kept Xanxus waiting long enough already. That bastard must have already sent someone to the hospital by now.  
  


\--

  
   
Ever since Hibari’s disappearance, Tsuna has become more subdued yet at the same time demanding. Takeshi doesn't like how the once usually flailing teenager has become a tenacious man who will pull rank (or trigger, when necessary) without any sign of hesitation or remorse. To say Takeshi is bothered by this development would be an understatement.  
   
Especially, Takeshi frowns in thought, when even Hayato starts to avoid the Tenth as much as his duty as the right-hand man permits. He never asks Hayato what had happened to the famous undying loyalty, but Takeshi knows, because he also knows why Tsuna has retreated into a shell of cold nonchalance, why Hibari is not around anymore, and most importantly, why Tsuna clams up every time Hibari is mentioned.  
   
He never stops wondering though if it really had become some sort of running gag for him to know everything that no one is meant to know about. Reborn isn’t around anymore, or at least, not in Vongola anymore, the hitman taking his much-needed vacation at the Caribbean, but there’s still Squalo to make him feel special.  
   
He definitely doesn’t enjoy receiving ominous threats from an ally as much as Squalo does not enjoy delivering them. Then again, meeting up with Squalo the previous day helped him clear some air of mystery surrounding the Vongola lately. He wonders what had happened in the first place. It’s not in Dino’s nature to be on the offensive side. Something of great significance must have happened to warrant such actions. As far as he knows, Tsuna did not mention anything about the Cavallone aiming missiles at them.  
   
"What's for dinner?" Hayato's voice reaches the kitchen, soft yet clear over the low volume of jazz from the stereo. And as Hayato enters the kitchen, necktie loose, coat in the process of removal and gun somewhere out there and not here in their sacred sanctuary, Takeshi pushes away any remaining thoughts of Tsuna and Hibari and whatnots and turns and beams at Hayato.  
   
“Curry.”  
   
The scrunching of Hayato’s face almost pulled a laugh from him.  
 

* * *

**  
AND NOW**

  
  
   
Days turned to weeks before months passed by and there is still no Hibari to be found. Or rather, no possible way to reach their elusive Cloud guardian. Hayato has gone as far as visiting Kusakabe every other night after work and dragging him out to dinner just to make Kusakabe spill Hibari’s whereabouts. His fourth visit to the Foundation proved Hibari’s not around in spite of how Kusakabe and his fellows tried to hide that fact.  
   
Rubbing his right temple gently, Hayato glares at the papers strewn all over the dinner table. Takeshi isn't going to be happy once he sees them. That freak always hates him bringing work home.  
   
The sound of jingling keys prompts Hayato to quickly sort the papers into a pile, only leaving a few important papers lying about. Maybe he can convince Takeshi to go over them together, no matter how awfully bad that moron is in using his brain. It’s the thought that counts, he’s been preaching to himself.  
   
"Hey," Takeshi greets when he entered the kitchen. His gentle but tired smile twists into a frown almost immediately at the sight of the papers. Hayato didn't bother with a poker face.  
   
"I think I need your help in this."  
   
Takeshi snorts lightly, head turning away immediately, but Hayato could tell few seconds from now he won't be dealing with the baseball nut Takeshi anymore. It will be the cold-blooded assassin Yamamoto, the Vongola Rain, the one that Hayato tries to avoid as much as possible when they're at home. The transformation is freaky, really.  
   
When Takeshi removed his coat, Hayato's breath hitches just slightly, his eyes zeroing in on the patches of dried blood staining the formerly pristine white shirt.  
   
Back turned, Takeshi goes to the stove to fix some tea. Hayato hates the shit, always preferring the bold strength of coffee. When Takeshi tosses dried leaves into the teapot, Hayato breathes deeply and prepares himself for a stony Yamamoto.  
   
"I visited Kusakabe today."  
   
The louder than normal slam of the kettle against the boiler jolts Hayato's heart rate. But Hayato presses on. The sooner he gets this out of his chest, the faster it'll be to wipe the mess clean. It's easier to confront Takeshi's back than Yamamoto's stony face.  
   
"He said the last meeting Hibari had before the Tenth was with Cavallone. It was almost four months before Hibari returned to the Foundation. After that, he visited the Tenth. Then... he didn't return anymore.  
   
"I tried contacting the Cavallone, but Romario wouldn't answer my call. They seem to be in some sort of internal crisis at the moment." Hayato pauses, watching out for any tensing of Yamamoto's back. But his partner for eight years remains calm in that cold, silent way. It unnerves Hayato every time this part of Yamamoto comes out to play.  
   
Just as he is about to continue, Yamamoto faces him with a frown and a very gloomy stare that made Hayato flinch; with guilt or fear, Hayato doesn't know. But he knows that right now, he's worried. The last time he'd faced this version of Yamamoto, it was after Yamamoto Senior’s death and the scarring that came with it. It was not easy dragging the laid-back Takeshi back out from the shell of this stony Yamamoto.  
   
Yamamoto remains silent. Hayato continues to fidget internally, eyes settling on the standard black Windsor-knotted necktie.  
   
Finally, after what felt like very stifling moments of silence, Yamamoto moves.  
   
Teapot now on table, Yamamoto collects the rest of the papers and tosses them on top of the pile. Then he walks the short distance to the cupboard without glancing at Hayato and grabs just one teacup.  
   
Hayato knows very well what that means, and he hates it when Yamamoto does that. The silent treatment is largely personal, and when problems between them are personal, more often not, someone will storm out of the house (usually it's him, but even Yamamoto can act like a brat).  
   
"And you decided to tell me now," the assassin says, as if daring him to answer back.  
   
Hayato blinks widely. So that’s what this is all about? What the fuck?  
   
Yamamoto stares at him as if he's expecting an answer. Hayato honestly doesn't know what to say. He's been expecting something more... dramatic, like bringing work home. (That's a highly dramatic reason to him, thank you very much.)  
   
Maybe Yamamoto the assassin isn't so different from Takeshi the baseball freak. Hayato couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "You can't be serious."  
   
It might not have been the most eloquent reply, but at least it diffused the tension and brought back a bit of the Takeshi he's come to love.  
   
He could feel his shoulders relaxing as Yamamoto shakes his head, chuckling very softly. Only Hayato's familiarity enables him to see it, which truthfully isn't really a good thing but Hayato is far from caring now.  
   
"You're pissed because I didn't tell you about this shit?"  
   
Yamamoto smiles wryly. "I wouldn't call it shit if your prying has made Tsuna shifty."  
   
Snorting, Hayato crosses his arms. "Anything concerning Hibari fucking Kyouya makes the Tenth shifty. I swear he can't be more obvious than he already is."  
   
"I never thought I'll see the day of you not worshipping the ground Tsuna walks on."  
   
The glare Hayato throws at Yamamoto is scathing but it does not carry any weight of warning in it. "I do not worship! It's called respect, you stupid baseball freak!"  
   
"Same thing to me," Yamamoto drawls before taking a sip. "Tsuna is wary and when Tsuna's like that, things don't go well for us. For all we know, this could be another one of his plans."  
   
"And you surely remember the last time he kept us in the dark." Hayato leans against the table, watching Yamamoto drink his tea. Bastard.  
   
"You don't have to remind me about that."  
   
It's a very sore subject among the Guardians, a subject that only Hayato is brave enough to open up every time someone needs a thorough backlashing. Being the blind one at the start of this journey has its own merit, Hayato believes.  
   
"Whatever the Tenth's reason is, we can't ignore the fact that Hibari is gone."  
   
Frowning once again, Yamamoto sets down his tea. "What do you mean?"  
   
"Hibari's gone. He left the Vongola."  
   
The Rain Guardian’s eyebrows draw together. “Kusakabe said that?”  
   
"Not in the exact words, but I can gather that's what happened when you consider what’s going inside the Cavallone right now. We know that combination is always enough to bother the Tenth.”  
   
Yamamoto takes another sip of his tea, an intense look of thinking on his face. Finally, he says, “Squalo actually told me something about it. About Hibari and Dino and how Tsuna figures into this.”  
   
“What do you mean?” Hayato asks. “Is this about that time when the Varia tried to maim you?”  
   
“And also that time Tsuna blatantly ignored my question? Yeah, it’s about that.” Yamamoto smiles wryly. “Have you read Hibari’s report?”  
   
“Yes, but it didn’t say much. Just details about the bullet.”  
   
“Well...” Yamamoto cups his tea with both hands and jerks his head towards the stack of paper on the table. “That’s not the original report. The one Tsuna gave us is an edited one.”  
   
“What?”  
   
“Didn’t you wonder why there are only details about the Living Death Bullet in it? History, symptoms, effects, organizations involved in creating it... This is Hibari we’re talking about. I doubt a four-month investigation can only yield that so few results. Hibari’s the best when it comes to investigation cases, and Hibari always digs to the very bottom of it. The report Tsuna gave us didn’t include the _subjects_ this bullet was tested on, something which Hibari always paid most attention to. And that’s not all.  
   
“It didn’t include Dino’s involvement in the case. According to Squalo, the Cavallone was also investigating the Living Death Bullet the same time Hibari was on it, and _they_ , as in Cavallone and Hibari, worked together on the investigation. In fact, it is the Cavallone that had raised the issue of the bullet to Tsuna and asked him to send Hibari to help them with the investigation.”  
   
“Basically, you’re saying that the Tenth erased all evidences of Hibari working with the Cavallone.”  
   
“Yes. In fact, the real reason Squalo talked to me was to threaten me that Vongola should keep away from Hibari now that he’s quit or else Dino will do something nasty to us.”  
   
Hayato groans. “That makes no sense at all.”  
   
“I thought so too, until I realize that’s because we don’t know what really is going on. What the Tenth is telling us is different from what Squalo told me. And here’s the clincher: Hibari left right after finishing the investigation.”  
   
Hayato honestly doesn’t want to know how Yamamoto managed to think that far. “I still don’t get it. What does this have to do with Bronco?”  
   
The stare Yamamoto gave him in response almost made him cringe, as if Hayato was being the dumb one between them. In fact, he’s already beginning to feel slightly stupid.  
   
“Are you sure you’ve read the report at all, Hayato?”  
   
Of course he had! He’d read from cover to cover, twice in fact, and must have every details memorized already...  
   
“The symptoms of the bullet, Hayato. The side-effects. Don’t they sound familiar to you?”  
   
Hayato tries his damnedest to ransack his brain, going through every memory and every bit of information he’d gathered for the past few months. Then he remembers the rumour about Bronco’s suddenly acquired sickness, and then days later, after Hibari’s supposed leave, the Cavallone confirming Bronco’s deteriorating health.  
   
“Cavallone was shot with the bullet?”  
   
Yamamoto nods. “He’s still alive, but like what the bullet’s name suggests, he’s practically a ‘living dead’ man now. His body’s collapsing and so is his mind. This is not some ordinary disease you can just go to a hospital and be diagnosed with, Hayato. This is a _very_ special kind of disease.”  
   
“You’re suggesting that Hibari left because of Bronco acquiring this disease by being shot with the Living Death Bullet.”  
   
Sighing, Hayato rubs his head in aching pain again. “How could you be so sure of that?”  
   
“How else could you explain Hibari leaving Vongola?”  
   
In an ordinary world, that would be one of the most ridiculous explanations Yamamoto could ever come up with. But this isn’t some world where everything is normal or as expected. Magical bullets and time-travelling already proved that, and those are far more unbelievable than Dino Cavallone’s illicit relationship with Hibari Kyouya.  
   
“What do you suggest we do then?” Hayato asks, fearful of whatever crackpot idea Yamamoto might think of. He has to admit; Takeshi was not born to strategise. He was born to react, the same way he’d swing his bat in the precise moment.  
   
So when Yamamoto grins and calmly tells him his plan, Hayato swears he’s in for the biggest joke of his life.  
 

\--

   
_"Serve the Don to the best of your capabilities."_  
   
Every morning, while climbing the stairs to the Vongola's porch, Hayato would recite it.  
   
_"Never question the Don."_  
   
Before Hayato would knock on the Tenth's office door, he would chant that.  
   
To be honest though, what they were about to do was no joke at all. When the sun rose and he’d prepared for work, Takeshi already downstairs making breakfast while humming some cheerful tune he’d picked up from the stereo next door, Hayato knows _this_ —this very crazy and risky plan of theirs—can either make or break them.  
   
He’d arrived at the Vongola headquarters five minutes earlier than usual.  
   
"Be patient," Takeshi reminded him before leaving the house. Hayato finds it more than just ironic that he has adapted to living by Takeshi Yamamoto’s words of advice.  
   
"Tenth?" Hayato knocks on the oak door twice. When no one answered him, he twists the doorknob only to find it unlocked. Worry worms itself into his guts as he slowly, silently pushes the door open, hoping the Tenth would at least be just napping.  
   
Leaving just half of his shoulder's width open, Hayato slips into the room and glances around for any sign of the Tenth. It's not in the Tenth to leave his office door unlocked, and most especially not when there are so many important and confidential files lying about.  
   
The room is empty of life. Not even the Yorkshire terrier the Tenth adopted as Natsu's living counterpart is around.  
   
With one last glance outside, Hayato shuts the door and begins his prying.  
 

\-- 

  
Checking his watch, Yamamoto stands guard outside the conference room. He hopes forty minutes is enough for Hayato. He'd asked Ryohei to take Hayato's place today, which usually goes to him if Hayato's not around. Their Sun Guardian didn't ask why, but Yamamoto suspects there will be some explaining to do later.  
   
It took them two weeks of planning and a lot of deliberately postponed routine check-ups just to buy Hayato the time to sneak into Tsuna's office. He should be with Hayato right now, but his partner firmly told him to watch over Tsuna and not Hayato. Frankly, it doesn't matter to him. Either way, chances of getting caught are the same.  
   
Twenty-three minutes left. It takes twelve minutes of brisk walking to reach Tsuna's office from the garage, fourteen if one is to stay out of the security camera's lenses, which is what Hayato will aim for. Sixteen if Tsuna's office happens to be locked and Hayato has to unlock it while remaining hidden. Hayato had personally reprogrammed the entire wing's security system without endangering its safety to fit their plan, and for added measure, Hayato rescheduled the staff's meeting from morning to early afternoon. It never hurts to be extra careful.  
   
Yamamoto checks his watch again; twenty-one minutes. Hayato should be inside the office by now. The camera changes direction every two minutes. He has to time his exit right lest he blows his cover up.  
   
Twenty minutes. Barely ten minutes to find any document concerning Hibari or Cavallone. He doubts they can pull another scheme like this. Tsuna is already suspecting something fishy. It is only the improbability of Hayato instigating anything that kept Tsuna from figuring anything out.  
   
Fourteen minutes. Sweat drips from his back, sticking shirt to skin. Yamamoto fights back the urge to pull the knot around his neck. Chances are, from the distinct lack of noise in the room, Tsuna will end the meeting earlier than scheduled.  
   
Yamamoto glances at the door behind him. He should be out of here before it opens.  
   
_Click._  
   
Voices are approaching. Yamamoto sneaks a glance the small slit of the unlocked door.  
   
Ryohei has his back turned towards him, Tsuna rising from his seat beside him, his eyes trained on the papers laid before him. For a split second, Ryohei throws a glance at him that spoke more than what eyes alone could tell.  
   
Yamamoto returns the gaze equally. He has to warn Hayato of an incoming third party soon.  
   
Reshutting the door, Yamamoto slips into the shadow and returns back to their flat.

   
\--

   
None of them retained their original surname the moment they were inducted into the ranks of Cavallone.  
   
_"Serve the Don and no one but the Don."_  
   
That has been their motto, their order, and their life.  
   
Rafael has been the one handling most of Romario’s job since the old man kicked the bucket (or hit, depending on some accounts). No matter how tedious it can be, he does not mind. His job, after all, can’t be worse than Bono’s. He knows he’d never enjoy the life of absolute servitude despite what the initial induction requires from them.  
   
The great clock strikes twelve, its booming cry disturbing the dust from its perch on the mantle.  
   
Rafael holds back a shiver; it’d never bode well if the Don catches that slight reaction.  
   
At the end of the corridor, the doors to the Don’s quarters open then close. He can see Bono’s figure emerging from within, limping and dragging his left foot before collapsing in a limbless heap of mangled flesh halfway down the corridor.  
   
Rafael breathes deeply and holds it in for as long as he could. One can never tell anymore when it’ll be their last.  
   
   
\--

  
   
The sharp suck of dying breath is too loud, even for his normal hearing. Kyouya wonders what it is like, for the Cavallone. It must have felt like nails on chalkboard.  
   
Dino drops the almost lifeless body without a care, his eyes trained on Kyouya, even during the entire feeding period. That is the third body already, and halfway through the second one, Dino had already reverted, beastlike, mindless with hunger. It won’t be long before they have to move on to the next method of feeding. Romario had already found a blood bank willing to donate for whatever charitable cause the old man managed to come up with.  
   
Neither spoke. Kyouya had learned to ignore whatever qualms he'd surprisingly acquired over the years, and Dino had stopped minding him ever since. It is better this way; they are both too wary and too tired to deal with whatever’s between them.  
   
The change in personality is jarring. It bothers Kyouya so much that he ends up being the one asking and Dino the one being asked. The exchange only stopped after Dino snapped at him, something that never happened between them.  
   
It is the change in Dino’s body that is more distressing though, particularly his torso. What used to be a tiny gunshot wound is now bigger, almost the size of his fist, and only the constant supply of Sun energy is keeping it closed. The infection has spread from chest to abdomen, melting skin as it progresses. The boils on Dino’s skin have also grown badly, hardened from exposure to the air and the Sun’s flame.  
   
He'd never admit it, even after how many years or under any torture, but the fact exists: Kyouya is afraid. It is his pride that made him stay, and after seeing the damage the Living Death Bullet had inflicted on Dino’s entire person and the following repercussions on his Famiglia, Kyouya knows he cannot live with himself if he left Dino to his own devices. Researching is what he does best, and thus he makes it his task to find a cure for the bullet. He only wishes he knew how. 

  
\--

   
A trip to the Tenth's office and back has never been this nerve-wracking and exhausting since the Tenth’s induction to power.  
   
Tossing his tie over his shoulder, Hayato collapses onto the couch and sighs too loudly for comfort.  
   
"That scary?" Takeshi's voice drifts in from the foyer.  
   
Hayato grumbles. He doesn't really want to talk about this now, not when he's bone-tired and feels like shutting down. This is all Takeshi’s fault.  
   
Heavy hands land on his shoulders, a warm weight that he welcomes gratefully. It's not that things are scary at the moment. No, he thinks gloomily. It's not scary at all. There's more to it than just 'scary.'  
   
It took him more shuffling and rummaging of desk cabinets than expected to find what he needed. He did find it, but it was not what he thought he'd find.  
   
Hayato had started on the lowermost drawer, thinking the Tenth would hide his dirtier secrets at the bottom of the pile. But it turned out that the Tenth hid them all in the center drawer; a bundle of letters tied with just a string, all from various people and families, sorted by date. They were, however, talking of the same topic.  
   
Hayato's eyes narrow in recollection. No wonder Hibari had left in a huff.  
   
"Hayato?"  
   
He grunts. "Hibari's leave does have something to do with Bronco."  
   
"I thought we've already settled that point." The massage pauses before kneading harder as if it's trying to distract. Hayato grunts again. “So what did you find?” Takeshi asked.  
   
“I don’t think you’d want to know.”  
   
“Then what’s the point of doing this?”  
   
“I don’t know. For the thrill?”  
   
Takeshi pats his back, chuckling softly. “Just tell me what you found so we can go to bed.”  
   
“Can’t we talk about this in the morning?”  
   
“The longer we delay this, the more Tsuna will think he can play us around.”  
   
“Fine.” Hayato sighs. “I found these letters.”  
   
His voice croaks, his throat suddenly drying up as words from the letters rises from his memory.  
   
“Let’s just say they... were not the kind of letters the Tenth should be writing.”  
   
“You’re stalling.” Takeshi said.  
   
Christ, if only he knew! Hayato have no idea how to tell Takeshi that the Tenth had been plotting against their strongest ally right behind everybody’s back. In fact, he’s been conspiring both with _and_ against the Luchesse! While he was receiving letters from Hibari about his and the Cavallone’s whereabouts and findings, the Tenth was feeding Luchesse with delicate information about the Cavallone’s own investigation. And that stupid Bronco was too trusting, too, willingly sharing notes with the Vongola without any sense of self-preservation.  
   
Before he knew it, Hayato was already telling Takeshi everything he’s found, from the Tenth’s conversation with the Luchesse to how the Tenth tried to clean his hands by cutting the Luchesse off. Without any thought of choosing the right words, he told Takeshi about the Tenth discovering a plot to off Bronco, about how the Tenth did nothing to stop them and once again pretended to be blind and deaf, about how the Tenth went from being part of the audience to a player in this dangerous game.  
   
“The Tenth, Takeshi! The Tenth!” Hayato wails at the end of his narration. He’s not even sure if he had made any sense, knowing he had jumped from one conversation to the next. Takeshi's fingers move to his nape, thumbs rubbing smooth circles.  
   
“So I was right. Tsuna _is_ plotting something behind our back. _Again_.”  
   
Hayato doesn't need to vocalise his agreement. For a moment there, with Takeshi's fingers calming his tense muscles, he feels like he's floating, staring at the ceiling blankly. Now that Takeshi had said it out loud did reality hit Hayato hard.  
   
“What are we going to do? I don’t even know if I can trust him anymore, Takeshi.”  
   
As much as Hayato wished Hibari wasn’t being a total arse and had dragged them into this stupid mess, he wished he didn’t have the blasted habit of knowing more than he should.  
   
The Tenth was right. He didn’t need to know everything.  
   
What Hayato knows though is that those letters are highly incriminating and they can destroy the entire Vongola if it gets leaked outside the Tenth’s office. He knows Tsunayoshi Sawada very well, and that Tsuna will always stand by his actions based on instincts dictated by his emotions. If those letters he found are any indication, the Tenth has acted with his emotions at helm. The Tenth had already dug a grave with a grudge; a certain kind of grudge that Hayato knows is making all previous generation leaders roll in their own graves. And now, he had filled up that grave with Hibari and Cavallone’s body and he has covered it with that so-called report they’d read.  
   
Now he understands why his father has always been so cold and aloof. The Mafia is no place for emotions and whatever the heart may say, and unless the Tenth can divide his persona as well as the Bronco, the Vongola might be cutting off a few families here and there who dare to piss the Tenth off.  
   
To think that for all these years, it’d be Hibari to take the figurative cake... Hayato almost laughed. Who would have thought?  
   
That’s the truth of it though. The Tenth’s hurried yet angry handwriting told him so. The Tenth had always resented Cavallone for being the only one Hibari would listen to, which as far as Hayato understand was like a blow to the Tenth’s pride. It was the Bronco’s special status as the Tenth’s brother that kept that resentment bottled up and repressed.  
   
But Hibari had rejected the Vongola—the _Tenth_ , the Sky of the Vongola, in favour of Cavallone, _an ally_ of Vongola. Hibari has turned his back on what should be his family for a man that for all they can suspect is some secret lover. Now that, to the Tenth, was more than just a punch to the guts. He could already imagine the amount of stories the rumour mill will churn for the next few months.  
   
Sighing, Hayato pulls away from Takeshi’s touch to cradle his aching head. Hibari’s disappearance is going to leave a very bad mark on their reputation, and it is his job as the second-in-command to filter whatever news that will reach the Tenth.  
   
Tomorrow is going to be a bloody day. 

  
\--  
 

  
In retrospect, it was out of his control, contrary to what he wanted to believe. The trigger was pulled before he could react. But Cavallone was the bigger fool, and he will not stop blaming Cavallone for being such a suicidal idiot.  
   
He had left Cavallone to his men. He was too concerned with answering that sudden eruption of anger and wrath within him. He could remember being snapped out of the red-tinted trance by Romario and following Rafael back to Cavallone Manor as Romario brings Dino to a safe-house. He didn’t bother to argue with Romario about the inadequacy of facilities of the safe-house.  
   
Upon arriving at Cavallone Manor, he’d instantly gone into leader-mode, barking orders left and right. They’d lost quite the number of men that night. While none of Dino’s men appreciated the gesture of him taking over, they did as he said and no one questioned his allegiance.  
   
Everything would have been alright if he didn’t have the cat’s stupid curiosity to go to Dino’s office and see if Dino had any idea about what will happen, and he couldn’t stop thinking of a what-if scenario. If he hadn’t gone to Dino’s office and found Sawada’s letter, he would have returned to Vongola blind and compliant.  
   
What he had found there, in Dino’s cold, silent, dark office, on top of all the papers and reports to be signed, was a printed-out letter from Sawada. He’d dismissed it at first, thinking it was just some letter an herbivore would send to another, until he’d noticed the heading was addressed to the wrong person. Dino must have intercepted it then, he thought, and that is not a good sign of loyalty for an allied family.  
   
He was about to prepare a scolding to rain on Dino when he saw to whom the letters were addressed.  
   
_Vestati. Simoni. Perez. Buntz. Luchesse._  
   
And when he read past those names, once again, Kyouya saw red.  
   
On the body of the letter, detailed to the very dot of the ‘i,’ are details of both his location and their findings on the bullet. And that stupid Dino, always being such a herbivore, believing everyone has some sort of innate goodness in them and that Sawada would never betray them...  
   
But Sawada did. Sawada had the moment he knew there was a plan out there to murder Dino and he didn’t do anything about it. That herbivore didn’t even have courtesy to warn them that Dino is in danger. Instead, he just told Kyouya to leave Palermo and head back to the headquarters so they can go over what they had found.  
   
This must have been why the Luchesse knew where to find them that way. They must have thought he wouldn’t be investigating literally together with Dino that night. Sawada must have told them Dino would be alone and he’d be already on his way back to Vongola.  
   
That bastard. Because of him, he had to witness some strange man leaping out of the shadows inside that warehouse they’d found, shooting Dino on his right breast, a glowing, blue-tinted bullet entering Dino’s chest and freezing everyone to the ground. It was completely underhanded and unexpected. No one could move, not even when Dino onto his knees, gasping and clutching the tiny yet profusely bleeding hole on his right breast, until Kyouya snapped out of his shocked stance and started a murderous rage that will forever taint Vongola blood.  
   
It was the first time in Cavallone history though for Cavallone’s men to act without orders. It was the first time the Cavallone’s Tenth generation went into a battle for a vengeance without their Boss and instead with an outsider.  
   
But did they still consider him as an outsider? Despite what he wants to believe in, Kyouya knows he needs them to consider him as part of their family now. He’s the one who’s been nursing Dino back to health when that irksome Dr. Shamal only spared Dino one look before claiming defeat.  
   
Kyouya didn’t waste any time beating the doctor into a bloody pulp. He went back to researching, although that didn’t bring him anything good. He had ended visiting the Luchesse for some answers, and when they couldn’t give him anything pleasing, only piles upon piles of lies that are in fact the truth, Kyouya eliminated each and every living person in that opulent house. He had no remorse, and he had hoped the fingers will be point at Vongola. Kyouya had seen the kind of man Sawada had grown up to be, and he knew sooner or later, he’d be bringing the entire Vongola down with him.  
 

* * *

**LATER ON**

****  
  
The reason the Foundation survived beyond its preordained years considering the absence of its stalwart leader is unfathomable. The Tenth believes it’s because of the faith and trust of Hibari’s loyal followers. Hayato thinks it’s because Hibari had personally beaten discipline and loyalty into each and every one of their bone. It is needless to say that for five years the Foundation has stood on its own, leaderless yet still efficient.  
   
Every Saturday morning, Hayato would drop by the Foundation with documents, and every Saturday afternoon, he would help Kusakabe maintain the old-fashioned Japanese house. They’d clean Hibari’s stale room, stuffing every nook and cranny with moth balls. They never touch anything though; Kusakabe is too discomfited with it and Hayato simply doesn’t want to. There is an air of warning surrounding every object—quite few though, they are—that just wards them off.  
   
Then every Saturday night, the stupid baseball freak and the equally stupid knucklehead would join them for company and they’d eat and drink in some remotely known sushi house (nothing can still beat Takesushi, but Takeshi doesn’t need to know that) until the lawnhead starts singing the Happy Birthday song in his Japanese-accented English.  
   
The whole stupid drinking thing that became a ritual after the second time was Takeshi’s idea (obviously). But it was the lawnhead who thought of drinking in the memory of Hibari fucking Kyouya.  
   
Hayato could care less, to be honest. It is only the sad, reminiscent look on the Tenth’s face that kept him going. He didn’t need to voice out how stupid the idea was. (Although knowing Takeshi, that idiot mostly likely suggested it for the sake of annoying him, that freak.) He’d long since convinced himself that he does this for the Tenth, who is still too grief-stricken over the loss of not just his strongest guardian, and not as some means of escape from the grimness that has settled into the headquarters.  
   
Hayato downs his last shot for the night. The lawnhead has already gone beyond just singing in his deplorable English.  
   
Tomorrow, he’d lie in until Takeshi pulls him out of bed to enjoy his once-a-week break. Tomorrow, he’ll visit the memorial (the Tenth is obviously too fond of that paranoid loner freak) with Takeshi, and maybe the shark freak, too, if he happens to be around. Then once the sun set, he’ll visit the Tenth and have dinner with him, and if he’s lucky, keep the Tenth out of his office.  
   
Hayato sighs. Life was easier then. Now, they can only wish. 

  
\--

   
The hollow corridor leading to the Don's suite in the Cavallone Manor's left wing unnerved Leonardo every time he goes there to check on security. It is not something that he likes, but as what his father always said: "Never question the Don."  
   
Unlike his papa, Leonardo wasn't around when the great shift within the Cavallone ranks occurred forty something years ago. And unlike his papa, Leonardo does not have either the blind loyalty or absolute trust that every ideal Cavallone man possess. Perhaps it is because he never grew up within the estate, or that he never met the Don back when the manor used to be bright and sunny and always filled with so-called laughter of men armed to the shins or laundry maids' children. Not that he believes in any of those claims, of course. They are too far-fetched, even for a Mafia family like the Cavallone.  
   
A curtain flaps with the cool breeze of approaching autumn. Leonardo doesn't like this part of the yearly cycle; this is usually when the silence within the manor would be shattered with piercing screams and furious, hushed whispers among normally brave men filled with trepidation.  
   
But every year, Leonardo looks forward to it, and every year, he wonders if he'll finally catch a glimpse of their infamous Don.

  
\--

   
Despite the sickening level of devotion they profess, Kyouya doubts any of them expect Cavallone to live. Even he had resigned to the possibility of losing Dino. He had seen how the bullet penetrated Dino’s chest. He had heard the crunching of bone as the bullet hit a rib, the gurgling of blood as Dino tried to breathe. When Dino landed on his knees, kneecaps hitting concrete, the monster in him sprung forward and he attacked without thought. If any of Cavallone’s men followed suit, he could care less. The mere thought of someone getting to Cavallone before he does is insulting and hurtful, and he can never forgive that faceless bastard who did it.  
   
But Cavallone had lived. Dino had survived the gunshot, but the price of it was too steep that not even he could afford. Kyouya still have yet to relearn how to look Dino straight in the eyes.  
   
The night Romario had finally allowed him entrance of Dino’s quarters, Kyouya faced the first of soon to be many instances where Dino shies away from him instead of the usual privacy invading hug. He could barely bring himself to look at Dino’s face. His eyes were glued to the mass of mangled, decaying flesh that was Dino’s chest.  
   
The question at the tip of his tongue disappeared. So instead of trying to say anything, he just did what he does best.  
   
He had shed his coat and tie and crawled into Dino’s bed and let his arm touch that mutated flesh as he does now, every night. Gone though is the usual sweet kisses and goodbyes. Silence is all there is.  
   
  
  
_**finite**_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how well I was able to represent the theme, but I knew I ran away with it by showing the chinks in Tsuna's relationship with his guardians. 
> 
> As a warning, like most of my KHR works, this is not a happy fic. I do not know if the ending is what you'd call a happy ending, but it was the ending I envisioned and wanted the story to lead to. Hope everyone enjoys this.


End file.
